


Catbread Reunited

by der_tanzer



Series: Catbread [13]
Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-20
Updated: 2010-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-09 15:02:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theodore Quinlan came back to life on a hot afternoon in July of nineteen eighty-six.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Catbread Reunited

Theodore Quinlan came back to life on a hot afternoon in July of nineteen eighty-six. The federal government had been working quietly behind the scenes to resurrect him, and when he got off the plane at LAX, his death certificate had already been rescinded and his driver's license renewed. He was done with bad disguises and fake accents, done with Spanish television and human trafficking, done with everything that had happened since he died. Everything except a few court appearances, and the faithful loyalty of one man.

Murray went to the airport alone, not wanting to share this reunion with anyone. It was the first time they'd seen each other since his illness in May. There had been plans for a rendezvous in June, but a sudden break in the case Quinlan was working had killed it before Murray could catch the plane. His disappointment had been tempered by the knowledge that it wouldn't be much longer. The ringleaders on the southern side of the border went to jail to await trial and failed to survive their stay. Mexican jails were notoriously bad places for traders of Mexican flesh. The San Diego end fared better, at least the ones who were taken alive. Only the three biggest fish submitted to arrest, and they were looking at multiple life sentences. So Quinlan got off the plane a free man, knowing that none of the people who wanted him dead would get out of prison during his lifetime.

Murray waited at the gate, hands clenched in his pockets, staring at the screen that announced flight arrivals, wondering why it always took so long for people to appear on the jetway when the plane was clearly there. Passengers began to trickle through at last, and Murray clenched his hands harder, rocking on the balls of his feet with impatience. People with small children first, then the elderly, and finally, near the end, when he'd almost lost hope, a strong, stocky man in a Ralph Lauren polo shirt and aviator shades, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Murray was surprised at the sudden surge of emotion, a tidal wave of love and relief and blatant, greedy lust, boiling in his chest and threatening to drown him. He grabbed the back of the nearest chair and held on until his fingers went numb, just to keep himself from flying at Quinlan and making a spectacle of them both. There was a time when he wouldn't have been able to do that, but he was different now. The events of the last year had aged him in not entirely good ways, but they had also brought him a measure of self-control.

It lasted until Quinlan reached him and held out his hand to shake, his eyes still hidden behind the shades. Murray pulled him into a crushing embrace and counted himself lucky that he managed not to cry.

"All right, kid, that's enough," Quinlan whispered, sounding a little bit choked himself. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Do you have any checked bags?" Murray asked, releasing him and trying to look casual.

"Yeah." He adjusted the duffel on his shoulder and they went to find his suitcase. Murray had to put his hands in his pockets again to keep from touching him, or maybe trying to hold his hand. It got even harder when they were outside, not speaking much and sneaking only occasional glances at each other.

"Where'd you park?" Quinlan asked, looking around at everything except the man beside him.

"In the garage. On the roof."

"On the roof? What the hell for?" He wasn't looking forward to the walk.

"I've been here all day, watching the planes come in," Murray said simply. "The elevator's over here."

They rode up in silence and walked to where the Jimmy was parked, far away, against the retaining wall.

"Have to get a car, I guess," Quinlan said suddenly, putting his bags in the back.

"Yeah. There are probably a lot of details involved with coming back to life."

"Fucking bureaucracy in triplicate. It's worse than the Army," he said and Murray laughed, too hard, climbing into hysteria before he could regain control. It had all just been too much for too long. But there was no one watching now and Quinlan pressed against him, holding him close, kissing him so he couldn't laugh and wrenching tears from him instead. The kiss went on until neither could breathe and then Quinlan dropped his head to Murray's chest and just stood there, listening to his racing heart.

"I'm never gonna make you cry again," he said quietly. "Not as long as I'm alive. That's a promise."

"You can't keep it, Lieutenant," Murray said, holding him with one arm and wiping his eyes with his other hand.

"I can try."

"Okay. Do you want to drive?"

"Fuck, yes," he said, straightening up and adjusting his aviator shades. "You don't know how long I've been wishing for a decent car and real roads."

"Probably since you've been gone," Murray said, getting in the passenger seat.

"Wise ass," he muttered, walking around to the other side.

"You love my ass."

"Enough to come back from the dead," Quinlan said and started the car.

***

"Do you even have a place to stay?" Murray asked as they approached King Harbor. There had been so little opportunity for communication since he said he was coming home, not even the most basic things had been established. All Murray knew was the flight number, and he'd only gotten that the day before.

"You can leave me in a motel if you want."

"Come home with me. The guys would love to see you again."

"No, they wouldn't," he laughed. "But I'll take you up on it anyway. Tomorrow morning I have to see about getting my job back, and then I can start looking for an apartment."

"Maybe something close to the pier?"

"Maybe." He reached over and put his hand on Murray's knee, squeezing gently without taking his eyes off the road. Murray covered the hand with his own and sighed contentedly.

"I can't believe it's over."

"Well, I still have to testify in court. But the running and hiding, that's all done. We can get on with getting old now."

"Thank heavens for that."

***

Nick was grilling steaks on the fantail when they got there, so like that day a year ago when Murray brought Quinlan over for the first time. But today no one had black eyes or headaches. No one was angry, and when Cody met them at the rail and took Quinlan's bags, his smile was the one he used with friends.

"It's good to see you, Ted," he said, and they could tell he meant it.

"Good to see you, too, Allen. Ryder."

"Hey, LT. Welcome back to the land of the living," Nick called, annoying him just a little, on purpose.

There was a time when Quinlan would have told him to stick it, but standing here on the deck of the _Riptide_, he felt more at home than he had in a very long time. Suddenly the beach bums felt like family, in-laws at least, and he was so glad to be there he hardly trusted himself to speak.

"Did you tell anyone you were coming?" Cody asked, breaking the silence before it got awkward.

"No. I didn't know for sure I was getting out until yesterday. They wanted me to stay another week, do some advance planning, but I said fuck that shit, I'm going home. I guess people will figure it out when they see me."

"Better swing by the _Contessa_ and say hi to Mama Jo," Murray said.

"Shit. Josephine's gonna drop her basket when she sees me. So, you boys got any beer? I haven't had a decent drink since May."

By the time they were ready to eat, the entire pier and half of King Harbor had heard that Ted Quinlan was aboard the _Riptide_. Almost no one believed it. Mama Jo was the first to come see for herself, and though her eyes said she'd been crying, her voice was as strong as ever.

"So it _is_ you, Teddy. I always knew you weren't good enough to die that young."

"That's why you're still around, Mama Jo."

"Still as funny as ever. That's good. I'm glad to know some things don't change. You want to tell me what you were doing, running off and breaking this boy's heart?"

"Not really. He's forgiven me, though, so I think you can, too. Like a beer, Jo?"

She stepped forward, as if to take the bottle, and moved straight into his arms. He hugged her hard, the way they'd never seen him hug anyone but Murray, and then eased her away. She opened her beer and sat down as if she meant to stay a while.

"You're really not going to tell me where you've been?"

"It was police business. Better for everyone if they didn't know, and now it doesn't matter."

"Well," she said, and took a long drink, "it was a dirty trick, making us all grieve and then not even being dead."

"I doubt anyone grieved much over me," he said with that old grim smile, stroking Murray's arm to show he didn't mean him.

"Well, we did miss you when that hoity-toity Parisi got run out of town for fooling around with the mayor," she sniffed. "I always knew that woman was no good."

Nick, who had hated the way the pretty lieutenant fawned over Cody, agreed but said nothing. She'd had a hard time of it and done the best she could, like everyone else.

"So, are you rejoining the force, Ted?" Cody didn't like talk about Joanna. He always felt like Nick was accusing him of something, even though he never said it.

"I'm planning on it. It might take a few days to get the paperwork all straightened out, but they're shorthanded since Parisi left. I'm looking forward to being a regular cop again. I've had enough of that undercover crap to last the rest of my life."

"That's where you've been?" Mama Jo asked. "Working undercover?"

"Maybe. Ryder, those steaks about ready?"

"Just about. You want to stay for supper, Mama Jo?"

"Be glad to, if you're sure there's enough."

They got to eat in relative peace, but as they settled back with their after dinner beers, people began to appear in twos and threes, all wanting to see the dead man for themselves. Some, like his superiors in the police department who knew of his plans to return to work, just wanted to welcome him home. Others, like Dooley and Straightaway, hadn't believed the rumors and came to see the proof. Quinlan was surprised that so many people even cared, but any emotion it elicited didn't show.

He tried to speak to everyone, to at least say hello, but didn't answer any questions about where he'd been or why. He did say that he'd be staying aboard the _Riptide_ for a while, and after that, he didn't know. He didn't seem to be worried about it.

As the crowd grew larger, the boat seemed to shrink, and Straightaway invited everyone back to the restaurant for a round on the house. Nick and Cody went, but Murray and Quinlan didn't. No one seemed to mind. Talking _about_ him would probably be more satisfying than actually talking _to_ him.

Mama Jo stayed for a while after everyone else had gone. She opened one last bottle and sat down on the bench beside Quinlan elbowing him gently in the ribs.

"You know people started talking after that fracas at my party last year," she said matter-of-factly. They both nodded. "A couple old biddies said you two were going at it in the men's room and Allen and Ryder got jealous. I told them to shut their heads, since their minds were closed already. It was pure foolishness to think he was involved with those two. But part of it was true, wasn't it?"

"They weren't jealous," Murray said quietly. "They just thought I didn't know what I was doing."

"Well, I agreed with them on that, but it was still your business. Then, after Teddy here went off and did whatever he was doing, and you went all to pieces, the talk got a lot worse. But I don't suppose you ever heard it."

"I barely even remember those first couple of months."

"Yeah, well, that wasn't subtle, either. Then you got into that mess up in Cypress Bay and we told everybody to chalk it up to that."

"What mess?" Quinlan interrupted. Murray had never told him about the Nathan Warwick debacle. He hadn't wanted Quinlan to worry when he had so many other things on his mind.

"I'll tell you about it later," he said, knowing that he wouldn't. "What are you getting at, Mama Jo?"

"What am I—boy, aren't you listening? I'm telling you that everyone you know is up at _Straightaway's_ right now, talking about the two of you being back together."

Murray gulped and Quinlan squeezed his hand. Somehow it hadn't been so bad having people whisper about him when he was alone. What did it matter if a man was gay if he had no one to sleep with? But now he was part of a couple and that changed everything.

"So what?" Quinlan said, wanting her to spell it out. "People have always talked about us, haven't they, JoJo? What do you think we should do about it now?"

"I think if you call me that again, I'll break your face. And I won't need my bat to do it, either. I also think you need to play it close, if you can. You never had a lot of friends in this town, Teddy, but Murray does. Don't piss 'em off and you might be okay."

"Mama Jo," Murray said shakily, "ever since I started looking, I've spotted a lot of—of gay couples in town. People don't seem to mind."

"Depends on what kind of couples and what kind of gay. You take your friends, Cody and Nick, people don't mind them. They've been together for as long as anyone can remember, before they even came here. They don't flit around picking up playmates and getting it on in public. They don't offend people's sense of decency. But last February, when you were still walking around in a fog, a couple of boys were beaten to death on the beach for fooling around like a 'regular' couple. Folks aren't ready for that yet."

"I didn't—how did I not hear about that?"

"Like I said, you were in a fog. And I expect your friends hid it from you. You didn't need shit like that on your mind."

"But I do now?"

"Yes, Murray, I think you do."

"And just what is it you think is going to happen?" Quinlan asked harshly. He didn't want Murray to _ever_ think about things like that.

"It all depends on you. Like I said, the kid's got friends. Play your cards right and they can be your friends, too. Until then, keep it close. He can have almost anything he wants in this town, even you, but _you_ can't. You broke his heart, and folks need time to forget that before they accept you back completely."

Quinlan nodded like he understood, but Murray was baffled.

"I didn't think we were going to be making any announcements," he said.

"You didn't before, either. But when two guys who never exchanged a civil word in their lives suddenly start spending all their free time together, people figure it out. And it won't be that bad, so long as you watch yourselves. Don't go moving in together right away."

"Were we going to move in together?" Murray asked Quinlan with a hint of a smile.

"Not right away," he smiled back. But suddenly he was thinking that he should find a place with two bedrooms, so Murray could have space to work if he should want it.

"What about you, Mama Jo?" Murray said. "The lieutenant told me about you and your girls. Does anyone give you trouble?"

"That's different. Men don't mind so much when it's pretty girls. It's just when it's other men, especially men in authority," she added with a nod at Quinlan, "that the homophobes really come out."

"You're right, people were talking before," he shrugged. "But it never affected my authority at work and it won't now. Bozinsky's got friends and I've got power, so I think we'll be okay."

"I'm sure you will, Teddy. But I wouldn't be any kind of big sister if I didn't tell you what I know." She drained her beer and set the bottle aside. "I need to be on my way, boys. Let you two get on with your reunion."

She surprised them by kissing Quinlan on the cheek, then turned and kissed Murray, too.

"You two take care of each other. I don't want to see anymore broken hearts around here for a while."

"We'll do our best," Murray said, and escorted her off the boat. She looked back once and waved, and both men waved in return. Then Quinlan started gathering up plates and leftover food to take inside.

"Let's get this cleaned up and get undercover before anyone else shows up," he said with a wink. "If we hurry, we can be in bed before the party's over."

Murray went down to the galley, rolled up his sleeves, and began cleaning up so Cody wouldn't come down later and do it. The last thing he wanted tonight was his friends hanging around outside his door.

He was washing the dishes when Quinlan brought the last of the things in, so the older man went right to work drying for him.

"Do you think Mama Jo's right?" Murray asked quietly. "Will it be harder for us now?"

"I don't know, kid. I don't think so, if we're careful."

"You don't want to live with me, anyway. That was very presumptuous of her." He was staring into the sink, studying his hands as he scrubbed the barbecue fork.

"Jo's always been presumptuous," Quinlan agreed, taking a small pleasure in the sudden slump of Murray's shoulders. "But that doesn't mean she's always wrong."

"What?"

"Well, were you going to live here forever? I gotta tell you, I think it looks worse, you spending the night my place when you have a home of your own, than it would if we were roommates."

"That's why I never spent the night much."

"Sneaking out after dark wasn't too subtle, either. I'm not asking you to change your whole life in one day. It's just something to think about."

"I've been thinking about it ever since March. How much I hate saying goodbye, even for a little while. But Mama Jo's right. We have to be careful. Let people get used to the idea."

"People, and your buddies here. They're not gonna like you leaving."

"No, that's true. And I don't like the idea of leaving them. But we'd still work together. I'd still be over here all the time." He sounded oddly hopeful and Quinlan took note of how he said _would_ instead of _will_, like he wasn't quite sure.

"Yeah, sure you would. It probably wouldn't be that different at all." He put his hand to the small of Murray's back and rubbed gently. Murray gave him a grateful smile and went on washing dishes. After a moment, Quinlan went back to drying them.

When the galley was clean and everything put away, they went to Murray's room and locked the door. Two months had passed since they were last together like this and as soon as the door was closed, the stiffness and uncertainty of the day was forgotten. Five hours of looking at each other from the corners of their eyes, of touching when they had to, when the urge was too great, but never as much as they wanted, keeping themselves under the strictest control so they wouldn't fly to pieces. But here, in the privacy of Murray's cabin, it was all right to fall apart.

Quinlan shoved him up against the door, kissing him fiercely and unbuttoning his shirt at the same time. Murray allowed himself the pleasure of shivering under those demanding hands, clinging to the broad shoulders when his legs refused to support him. Then those hands were pulling him away from the door, dragging him to the bed, and he tried to make his feet keep up, but his head was spinning and he wasn't sure he remembered the way. Quinlan threw him down, took off his glasses, and kissed him senseless, all the while stripping his body, fogging his mind and bringing every nerve to frantic attention.

"Stop," Murray gasped as soon as he could speak. "God, stop—I'm gonna come."

"Good," was the laughing response. "We'll get the first one out of the way early." He knelt beside the bed and took Murray's cock in his mouth, sucking hungrily as he fondled the tight sac. Murray spread his legs and thrust helplessly, whimpering as one thick finger crept lower, teasing without penetrating. It was like being tickled and he fought it, seeking more contact, desperate for more sensation. His hands scrambled on Quinlan's shoulders, seeking purchase on the bare skin and finding none. Then Quinlan was reaching for him with his free hand. Murray grabbed it like a lifeline, their fingers tangling together, palm to palm, and came with a strangled cry. Quinlan sucked and swallowed until the pulse of his orgasm ceased and then was on him, kissing him again, giving back the flavor of his own passion.

Murray hardly had a chance to breathe. Being wanted was still the best aphrodisiac he knew, and the erection pressing against his belly made him hard again in minutes. All too soon, Quinlan was pulling away, sitting back, still caressing his thighs, but with a distracted expression on his face.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"I just want to look at you."

"At—at me?"

"Yes, you, fool," he said fondly. "Who else was I thinking of all those nights alone in Mexico?"

"I don't know. Steve McQueen?" Murray grinned, sitting up and moving closer.

"Fool," he said again, sliding his arms around the narrow body. "You don't even know what you look like, do you?"

"A skinny geek with a big dick?" he suggested and that got him another kiss. Rough hands ran up and down his back, combing through his hair, holding his head still so Quinlan could bite his throat and bruise his sharp collarbones.

"Slender," he whispered against Murray's neck. "And graceful, on a good day. Sweet and gentle, _and_ a big dick."

Murray laughed again, the sound trailing off in a moan as the strong hands moved lower.

"Gentle turns you on?" he sighed.

"One of us should be," Quinlan said, abruptly pushing him down and flipping him over.

"I love it when you get demanding," Murray said and was rewarded by a sharp bite on the ass. He moaned and Quinlan bit him again, licked up his spine and sucked great bruises on his shoulders. Murray was moving under him, grinding his cock into the mattress, and the smooth undulations of his body soon had the other man reaching for the lube.

Quinlan forced his legs apart and slicked him rapidly, impatiently. Murray writhed and twisted, urging him on, apparently unconcerned by the possibility of pain. It had only been two months, but he was tighter than before and Quinlan noticed.

"No question you've been good while I was gone," he murmured, feeling for Murray's gland with two fingers. He found it and they moaned together.

"You never doubted me," Murray sighed. "Admit it, or I'll get dressed right now."

"The fuck you will. And I didn't. I just love the proof."

Murray pulled his knees up, making himself more accessible, and Quinlan couldn't wait any longer. He slicked his cock and pushed into him almost too quickly. Murray pulled away, took a second to breathe, and then pushed back, sinking him deep with a satisfied groan.

"Easy, kid," Quinlan panted, holding his hip and pulling back.

"Doesn't hurt," he gasped, but the pain was in his voice.

"Don't lie to me when I'm inside you." He pulled nearly all the way out and advanced again by inches, holding Murray's hips in strong hands so he couldn't move. The slow, gradual slide was more torturous than the initial burn, and Murray tried to fight him, tried to force him deeper and was thwarted by the steady hands.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, Lieutenant. Just give it to me."

"Say my name, Murray. Say it, and I might."

"Ted," he groaned. "Is that good enough? Or how about this? Fuck me, Ted. Fuck me _hard_, Ted."

"Yeah, that's better," he said, thrusting gently against the tender gland. "That's what I want to hear."

"If you want to hear more, fuck more," Murray gasped. "Harder, Ted. Make me feel it."

"Feel this, kid," he said and sank himself full length, reaching at the same time for Murray's throbbing cock. The second climax was always harder to wring out of him, but Quinlan was an expert at it by now. He increased the force of his thrusts, pounding furiously as he stroked and squeezed. Murray was sobbing with pleasure, gasping incoherent words that sporadically included Ted's name, in case that was still required.

"That's it, baby. That's so good—_fuck_, baby, that's good. I'm gonna come in a second. Come on, Murray, come with me."

"Harder, Ted. Harder…"

"I'll come if I do."

"So will I. Do it, Ted. Hard as you can—_god, please_…" He ground into the mattress, pinning Quinlan's hand, making him tighten his grip, and the next time the thick cock hit his gland, he came, biting his arm to hold back his screams. Every muscle in his body clenched as he bucked and writhed, dragging Quinlan's orgasm from him and milking him dry. He kept thrusting for a moment, then collapsed on Murray's prone body, hugging him close, kissing him as they came down together.

Murray wouldn't let him withdraw until it became painful, and even then there was regret. He wondered if he might be able to get it up one more time and maybe be on top, just to reconnect. But it was getting late and Quinlan had had a long day. He probably needed to rest.

"I don't think the guys are back yet, if you want a shower."

Quinlan drew a deep sigh and stroked his sweaty back, ruffling his hair gently.

"Only if you come with me."

"Wow, that's almost romantic."

"It's my first day. I'll be a prick again tomorrow, if you want."

"Okay. Just to keep things familiar."

***

Nick and Cody were among the last to leave the party. They didn't want to give people a chance to talk too freely, but there was enough restrained whispering to trouble their minds. Everyone seemed to know too much. People had always talked about Murray's ring, especially since May, when he started wearing it on his left hand, and seeing Quinlan come home, still single and wearing the same ring, was making it much worse. Skipping his own welcome home party, spontaneous as it had been, was also not subtle. Nick told people he was exhausted and had to rest, but no one believed that.

"So, Ted and Murray, huh?" someone said to Cody as he leaned against the bar. Cody recognized him as a city cop, one of the five or six who maintained law and order in King Harbor.

"They've been friends for a while," Cody said. "I think it's been good for Ted. He's mellowed out a lot."

"Yeah, everyone appreciates that. It was the damnedest thing, though, getting that call from the feds that he was coming back. Normally someone dies, he stays dead."

"Well, he wasn't dead," Cody shrugged.

"I'm surprised Bozinsky forgave him so quick. Must be true love, huh?" The cop spoke casually, but he was watching Cody in a narrow way that sent chills up his spine.

"Murray's always been a forgiving person. Especially with his friends."

"So Ted's staying with you guys?"

"For a couple days, until he finds a place of his own." Cody glanced around and caught Nick's eye at the end of the bar. He raised his eyebrows and Nick came to him at once.

"Hey, Cody. Bill. What's up?"

"Bill was just asking me about Ted and Murray. You know, if Ted's staying with us, that sort of thing."

"Stuff that's none of his business, you mean."

"Right," Cody nodded.

"Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. It's just—odd. I'm not saying Quinlan could have anybody he wanted, but Bozinsky's a strange choice for anyone."

"I'll tell you something, Bill, and I hope you listen," Nick said tersely. "Whatever's going on with those two is between them and no one else. Personally, I think everybody would be a lot better off if they didn't worry so much about it."

"Yeah, sure," he said quickly. "Hey, I got nothing against the kid. He never did anything to me. I don't even mind Ted. It's just—weird."

"Well, there's probably some weird stuff in your life, too, if anyone wanted to look for it," he said with a meaningful glance at Cody. One that implied that a pair of private detectives might be bad enemies to have.

"Probably is," Bill agreed. "So how about I buy you guys a drink and we forget all about it?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Cody said, but his charming smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

They stayed until Officer Bill left, and then went home.

***

Neither would admit to each other, or to themselves, that they wanted to check on Murray, but they headed that way as soon as they boarded the boat. There was a light in the galley and both assumed it was left on by accident, but when they went down, they found Murray and Quinlan at the table drinking hot chocolate. Murray was in his pajamas and Quinlan was wearing Murray's robe. Both smiled and Murray offered to make them some cocoa, if they wanted to wait for the milk to heat. They exchanged a quick glance and Cody said that would be good. Murray got up and his friends took his place at the table across from the lieutenant.

"So how was the party?" Quinlan asked with a wry smile.

"Gossip-fest was more like it," Nick snorted. "I've seen quilting bees that were more civil."

"You've seen quilting bees?" Murray asked. "That's so interesting. Who do you know that quilts?"

"My grandmother did, and that's not the point. A cop, Bill Hendricks, was asking all kinds of questions. Said he liked you guys, but you make a weird couple."

"Shit," Quinlan muttered, his smile gone. "I was hoping it would take a little longer for the cops to get on it."

Murray kept his back to them and said nothing.

"What are you going to do?" Cody asked.

"Nothing. I never talked about my personal life with those people and I'm not going to start now."

"You should lie," Murray said quietly.

"What?"

"You should lie. Say you got married in Mexico and you haven't been able to get approval for your wife to enter the country. It would be safer."

Everyone was staring at his back now, wondering what had happened to their friend who screamed about civil liberties and was outraged by the idea of deception for its own sake.

"No. No way, kid," Quinlan said harshly. Murray turned around then and there were tears in his eyes.

"If the cops don't support you, you'll get killed," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "For real, this time. It's not worth it."

"I don't need them to approve of my life, Bozinsky. It's no one's business where I sleep or who with."

"You know better than that. They _make_ it their business."

"So what if they do? I'm not a patrol cop, you know. I don't call for back-up, I _am_ the back-up. And if that doesn't please 'em, I'll take a desk job. Or early retirement. But I don't think it'll come to that. I don't think I'm fairy enough to piss anybody off that bad."

"But I might be."

"That's nothing new. You've always been weird and people have always liked you anyway."

"You didn't."

"Sure I did. Now get that pan off the stove before you scorch it."

Murray turned off the fire and mixed the cocoa with trembling hands. Cody got up and took the cups from him before he could spill them, then sat back down, on the off chance the conversation wasn't over yet. It turned out that it wasn't.

"Was everyone talking about us? I mean, was it—ugly?" Murray asked softly.

"No," Nick said quickly. "Everyone was talking, but not ugly. A man comes back from the dead, people are going to talk. There was a lot of speculation about what would bring him back, and your name came up a lot, but LT's right. People like you. They'll probably like _him_ better because of you."

"Thanks a lot, Ryder."

"Hey, you want me to lie, I'm gonna need more time."

Murray sat beside Quinlan, and the lieutenant put an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close as if to protect him from some unseen threat.

"Don't you worry about it, kiddo," he said quietly. "We got away with it before, we'll do it again. Nobody's going to get hurt."

"More promises you can't keep," Murray whispered.

"Well, I'm sure-god gonna try."


End file.
